One from the archives. This piece found a place in the HER WORLD section of THE TRIBUNE published on August 26, 2001. One of my very early and raw pieces, it came much before the advent of the #MeToo movement and similar stuff. It can also be accessed on www.tribuneindia/days of Rajni Not that I ever …
We love our teachers but…
Without the fear of sounding cliché, let me put it this way- if my life were a book, my childhood would be its most memorable chapter. Undoubtedly, a sizeable portion of this golden phase would include the memoirs of my school days. Narratives that would be incomplete without the mention of the role played by …
Hello…
Welcome to ‘A Hundred Quills’. The title of my blog will probably intrigue you and I do plan to keep the suspense for a while. But for now, all I can say is that my blog may have a new name and a new address but I’m not really new to the process. I have …
An Epitaph Reads
An onerous soul dwells within, When autumn is pass and winter sets in, Introspecting I count my sins. Years seem a colossal mistake I lie, a lifeless body, a soul awake. But I have lived in inferno and it is too late. “Ah! Wither Faustus, Your soul can never be saved.”
Colours
The colours of life Unknown. Vintage, spring, a plethora grown. Hues and shades Brightness galore, The colours of life Yet unknown. Subtle dark A sunset glow, Ceaselessly, moments flow. Bliss and Erebus in a row, The colours of life Forever unknown.
Separated by Death
We haven’t seen each other for months. And years too will quickly pass by. I haven’t met you… Ever since you died.
A Hundred Quills 